


Blink, and You'll Miss It

by yoshizora



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Pokemon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Brighid's Espurr keeps getting in the way.





	Blink, and You'll Miss It

**Author's Note:**

> i watched det. pikachu twice and i loved it so here's a pokemon au

Mòrag knocks on the door.

She hears a lock being turned, something clicking, and then the door creaks open ajar. That’s as far as it goes— her brows furrow together, but she waits rather than pushing the door all the way open.

Just as she’s about to reconsider, it opens just a bit wider, wide enough that she could squeeze through the crack if she chose to. Still no response. No one is there, either. Then, it occurs to Mòrag that she should look down.

Brighid’s Espurr stares up at her, holding the door with one tiny paw.

Oh.

Mòrag awkwardly kneels down.

“Er… is Brighid home?”

The Espurr softly breathes through its mouth.

“How did you open the door by yourself?”

 _Psychic powers, don’t be a fool,_ she thinks to herself, already feeling like a fool for talking to the Espurr like this.

Shit. The Espurr has a name. What did Brighid say its name was…? Something with a C. Cat. Catty? Neither of those sound right. Mòrag presses her lips together into a thin line and stares back at the Espurr with grim determination, before she begins to feel unsettled by its unblinking stare.

“… May I come in?”

Finally, the Espurr moves away from the threshold. Mòrag takes her shoes off as she enters, watching the Espurr waddle away. Is she supposed to… follow it? Or wait at the entrance?

“I’m in the kitchen, Mòrag,” a voice calls from somewhere within. Mòrag’s shoulders slump with relief and she runs her hands over her face. She keeps a couple paces behind the Espurr, taking the tiniest steps possible in order not to overtake it. It’s only when she sees Brighid washing the dishes that Mòrag truly relaxes, and she strides over to wrap her arms around her middle and plant a kiss against her neck from behind.

Brighid laughs, and flicks water in her face.

“It’s good to see you, too,” she says, turning the water off and reaching for a towel to dry her hands.

“Have you finished unpacking everything?” Mòrag asks. She still hasn’t let go of Brighid, nuzzling her hair.

“I was hoping I could bribe you into doing the rest for me.”

“I’d have you put under investigation for bribery. Possibly even arrested.”

“Oh, my.” Brighid brings a hand up to cradle Mòrag’s jaw, leaning back against her touches. “What would the board say, if they caught wind of such a scandal?”

She’d noticed all the boxes still stacked around when she walked in, but didn’t think much of it. A part of Mòrag does feel somewhat guilty— Brighid had moved in nearly two weeks ago, and this is the first day in a while Mòrag had been able to claim to herself for free time spent untethered. They’re both busy. That much is understandable. But all those _boxes._

Most of it would be that Espurr’s belongings, to Mòrag’s understanding. But still.

Speaking of the Espurr.

As she’s busy tasting Brighid’s lips, she opens one eye and sees past her— standing in the doorway leading to the living room is that damn Espurr, staring, breathing, unmoving.

A shiver runs down her back. Mòrag stops the kiss short and nervously smiles.

Brighid, keen as she is, doesn’t fail to notice what had unsettled her. She smirks and detaches herself from Mòrag, going over to pick up the Espurr.

“Does Catha frighten you?”

 _Catha._ See, she was close. It does start with a C.

“Hardly,” she half-lies. “But when I was greeted at the door…”

“Don’t mind her,” Brighid cradles the Espurr in her arms. “It means she likes you.”

Seriously?

 

* * *

 

Mòrag wouldn’t say she _dislikes_ Pokémon. Far from it. Her father’s Arcanine was a constant comfort in her childhood when she spent most of her days alone in their massive estate while her brother was off being educated elsewhere, and for a while in her teenage years, she was renown in the district for her proficiency in battle with rental teams. But then she found herself sinking too much time into the family business, learning the ins and outs of bureaucracy and negotiations and _money_ , and it didn’t even occur to her until Niall once asked her why she didn’t have a Pokémon partner.

Then Brighid filled a different kind of void, and Mòrag figured that was more than enough.

Her father’s Arcanine still lives at her childhood home, too old to do much but nap these days.

It’s hardly even an unusual thing, she would say. Plenty of people don’t have a partner of their own. Metropolitan life affords little room and less time to devote oneself to such a thing, anyway. She’d entertained the thought of a safari excursion, once, then decided that housing a Rhyhorn or Scyther or Dodrio in her apartment would be… too much.

So she doesn’t dislike them. She just doesn’t see the point, when Brighid had come into her life.

“Hold her, please,” Brighid says, and she pushes Catha at Mòrag.

Mòrag takes the Espurr, holding her like how one would hold a small sack of flour. Catha breathes from her mouth and stares blankly straight ahead. It’s like she’s staring straight into her soul, dredging up all her buried secrets and repressed memories—

Okay, no.

Oh, wait, Catha is beginning to drool.

Mòrag helplessly looks over to Brighid, who’s busy shuffling through a rack of clothes. Maybe she should just put the Espurr down… but Brighid had once said that Catha has a tendency to wander away when unsupervised, and Mòrag would rather not spend the afternoon looking around the corners of a boutique for a lost Pokémon.

A woman walks by with her Furfrou. The Furfrou wrinkles its nose at Catha, who still hasn’t stopped staring at Mòrag.

“Have you found anything you like, yet?” Mòrag tries to avoid eye contact.

“What do you think of something red?”

“Purple and blue suit you better.”

“I’m talking about _you_ , Mòrag,” Brighid rolls her eyes. Or, she probably rolled her eyes. It’s hard to tell. She holds up a collared shirt, and Mòrag shrugs.

“It's not necessary...”

“Let me spoil you, just for today.”

Mòrag would kiss Brighid right there, but Catha’s eyes continue to bore into her.

“Would it be alright if I put her on my shoulder?” Mòrag awkwardly holds up the Espurr.

“Oh, no, she’ll fall right off. Her grip is very weak.”

“Ah.”

The rest of their shopping trip is more or less uneventful. Catha never stops staring at Mòrag the entire time, and Brighid buys three new outfits for her without her even noticing.

 

* * *

 

“However, Flareon is the only fully evolved Fire-type Pokémon that cannot learn SolarBeam.”

Brighid nods, and it’s hard to tell if she was actually listening or not. “What about Incineroar?”

“ _Pure_ Fire-type, I should clarify. Incineroar is part Dark-type.”

“With that sort of knowledge, maybe you should return to battling.”

Her smile fades. “Brighid.”

“You know what I’m going to ask next.”

“I don’t need a Pokémon partner,” she says, and she places a hand over hers.

“Don’t expect _me_ to fill that role. I’m not about to start spewing flames at your command.”

“That would be… something…”

“ _Mòrag._ ”

“Am I not allowed to daydream, now?”

“Careful. You’re on the verge of admitting that you wish I were a Pokémon.”

“That is— _not_ what I was implying.”

Out of playful frustration, she turns to roll atop Brighid and silence whatever she was about to say next with a firm kiss. Brighid tugs at Mòrag’s hair, but doesn’t pull away, and the mattress shifts beneath them as they grapple with each other. Mòrag gasps at the sharp bite of teeth digging into her lower lip. Brighid pushes a knee up against her gut. They revel in it, this rare moment without inhibition, only found in what late hours of night they manage to find for themselves.

But then the hairs on the back of Mòrag’s neck stand.

Mid-kiss, she glances sidelong and sees Brighid’s Espurr standing in the doorway.

Ah. She rolls off of Brighid, startled.

“Why did you…“ Brighid, slightly out of breath, looks over to where Mòrag is staring. “Oh, Catha. Did we make too much noise? Come here.”

And just like that, the moment ends. Mòrag pulls her knees up to her chest as Catha climbs up onto the bed and sits between her and Brighid, staring blankly straight ahead.

 

* * *

 

She considers those memories of her childhood spent in that estate, alone among the servants, and the warmth of that Arcanine’s seemingly endless cloud of fur. He’d give her rides on his back before age began to catch up with him and Mòrag was sent back to Alba Cavanich. Those were good days.

And now she doesn’t need that sort of thing anymore, because life is busy and Brighid is more than enough.

But.

When she returns to her own home, with its quiet walls and empty halls, she thinks of the Arcanine. And then she thinks of the Espurr and Mòrag has to sit down for a moment to recollect herself and stop the goosebumps from rising on her skin. No, she’s not _afraid._ That’d be ridiculous. Maybe a little perturbed, but hardly afraid. If anything, it’d be more reasonable to fear its hidden reservoir of massive psychic energy, but Brighid always insists that Catha knows to keep her ears down.

 _Despite its incredible psychic power, Espurr is ill-suited for battle because of its lack of control. Thus, its evolved form is favored._ She can recite it automatically without even thinking.

She battled with a Meowstic before, back when she was still crushing trainer after trainer to polish her ego. She battled with a great deal of Pokémon, each with their own unique individuality. In a moment of self-reflection, perhaps Mòrag would even admit that she misses those bonds, however temporary they might have been.

What do Brighid and Catha have that Mòrag doesn’t? Something… something else.

And she once again thinks of that Arcanine and how comforting his presence was.

The next day, Mòrag visits the local hatchery alone without telling anyone. Just to see.

 

* * *

 

Brighid is squinting hard at the thing perched atop Mòrag’s hat. “This is… unexpected, I have to say.”

Mòrag can’t conceal her wide smile. She carefully removes her hat without disturbing the Natu nesting upon it and strokes its feathers. The Natu ruffles but doesn’t make a sound, staring right back at Brighid, unbothered.

Unblinking.

Catha is trying to climb up Mòrag’s leg to get a better look. The Espurr drops back to the ground when Mòrag sets down her hat with the Natu still upon it, and the two Pokémon almost immediately lock eyes. They go completely still, staring at each other.

Unblinking.

“You did this on purpose.” Brighid wrinkles her nose. She crouches down and tries waving a hand in front of Catha’s face, but she only begins to drool.

“Is there a problem, Brighid?”

Brighid shakes her head in disbelief, though she’s also smiling as she stands up. “I can’t tell if they’re getting along or not.”

“You do have to admit, they go well together,” Mòrag says. Her eyes flit back to Brighid. “As do we.”

“Oh, so you were trying to be _metaphorical_ with this.”

Maybe, maybe not, but she knows Mòrag would never make a decision like this so lightly. Oh, well. They’ll have plenty of opportunities to talk about it later.

“You’ll help me pick a name for her, won’t you?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

She pulls Brighid in for a kiss, this time uninterrupted.


End file.
